


Batty Vengers! (Or witches need to be banned from doing spells that mixes two superhero teams together)

by Clover



Category: DCU, DCU - Comicverse, Marvel, Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Gen, M/M, NaNoWriMo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-08
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2017-11-18 05:58:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/557654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clover/pseuds/Clover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A witch on Halloween tries to summon creatures of the night to do her bidding and the Avengers manage to stop her, but they don't manage to stop the summoning. However, these creatures of the night weren't exactly the kind they were expecting.</p><p>What do you get when you mix Batman, Robins, Batgirls, Avengers, and S.H.I.E.L.D.?</p><p>Answer = CHAOS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is going to be my horrible attempts at NaNoWriMo, of which I have failed so many times in the past. However, seeing as I don’t have nearly so many obligations on my time as I used to, I figured that maybe I’d have a better shot of finishing it this year than I had previously.
> 
> So I had posted up my original five ideas and waited to see what the results were. Those results? Apparently I’m better at doing mildly amusing crossovers than I am at other things, or that a crossover is what people want to read most. This doesn’t mean that I’m going to completely forget about my other ideas, just that the DC/Marvel crossover is going to take precedence to whatever else I might write. After that, it’s just going to be whatever strikes me hardest with the baseball bat.
> 
> This work is unedited by a beta or an editor of any sort, other than what re-reading I do to make sure that I didn’t leave too many obvious grammatical errors in. That being said, if anyone WANTS to be my beta/editor, drop me a line. Lord knows I could use one. (Tenses, why?!)
> 
> My knowledge of DC is better than my knowledge of Marvel, but that’s not really saying much. The DC universe that I’ll be working with is pre-reboot because the new DC sucks so much ass that I’m pretending it doesn’t exist. Really, it doesn’t because the world does not need to lose the fact that Dick once wore a costume that showed more cleavage than Power Girl or that Timmy is the cutest little stalker-Bat. And it’s blasphemy that Steph and Cass aren’t there. As for the Marvel side of things, I’m going with the movie-verse because that’s the easiest for me to get my hands on to reference and because I don’t know if I could do the comic-verse enough justice. That’s not to say that I won’t be pulling comic book references and events, just that it’s not where I’m getting the bulk of my characterization from.
> 
> Ships are still fluid for the most part. Things I’m set on are Tim/Kon, Tony/Steve, and Bruce/Clark. Everything else is still up in the air, so suggestions or hopes are welcome! I can and may possibly just do any kind of pairing. Though, for the record, Dick + any of the three/four redheads around him? That’s just a given man. It doesn’t need to be said or suggested.
> 
> All right, so I think I’ve babbled more than enough for anyone and everyone. Thankfully, this will most likely be the LAST time I say anywhere near this much in a note. If I say anything, it’ll be short and at the end and not this hot mess of words that you didn’t need to read and probably didn’t, for which I blame no one. Also, none of this will be counting towards my final total because that’s just cheating and I’m already going to be getting the puppy face from these guys. I don’t need disapproving stares as well.
> 
> I think I’ll just shut up and get to writing now, shall I?  
> 

“I’m not the only one who’s wondering about what is it about our lives when going out on Halloween to fight a witch that’s summoning demons from a rift generator and is using an army of flying monkeys and pumpkins to keep us from stopping her isn’t met with any questions beyond ‘where’ and if we’ll make it back in time for our monster movie marathon, am I? Also, where do you just GET a rift generator and why does a witch even need one in the first place? Isn’t that cheating? I say that’s cheating because who ever heard of a witch using science and magic? It’s overkill, it’s what it is. And I want to know if combining science and magic should really be possible.”  
  
“So says the man who has a sentient AI running his house and then goes and makes a sentient toaster.”  
  
“I think we need less chatter on the comms and more minion smashing,” Steve stated, interrupting Tony from whatever it had been that he was going to say in response to Clint’s rebuttal. He tried to keep his voice stern, but Steve knew that any of the team would be able to pick out the amusement in his voice easily enough. Besides, Tony had a point with how ridiculous the situation was and he wasn’t bothering to hide the grin that made his lips crook upwards.  
  
They were fighting a witch on Halloween, during a full moon, who was trying to summon demons and had an army of flying monkeys and pumpkin monster minions to protect her.  
  
It sounded more like the plot to one of the bad horror movies that Clint insisted Steve needed to watch as a means to re-orient himself into modern society, than something Steve would ever expect to have to deal with. However, dealing with it he was and the Avengers were working as fast as possible to make a path through the witch’s minions to stop her from finishing her summoning ceremony. They might not have been exactly sure what it was she was trying to summon, but given the way she had cackled at them and then immediately set her army upon them, it was better to assume the worst. The pumpkins and monkeys weren’t tough opponents, one good punch was all it took to make them explode, but they had claws and teeth and a significant advantage in numbers. The fact that the witch had immediately started chanting just as they arrived was also working to their disadvantage.  
  
“Hawkeye, do you see a way to interrupt the ceremony yet?” Steve had to duck as another monkey took a dive bomb at him and then was sent flying away with a screech as Steve batted it away with his shield. It crashed into a pumpkin and they both exploded in a mess of pumpkin guts and feathers. Steve suppressed another wince, already felt sorry for whoever was going to be on Avengers clean-up duty given the amount and nature of the mess they were making. The property damage might have been minimal and civilian casualties were non-existent at the moment, but they were making quite the mess of the docks.  
  
“If I can get an incendiary arrow to make it to her, it'll interrupt her chanting and that should stop things, but that's if I can get a shot, and right now, there are too many targets in the way,” Clint answers. Distantly, Steve can hear the echoing effect that comes from hearing the Hulk’s roar through his own ears and through Hawkeye’s comm. The roar gives Steve a general idea of where the Hulk’s general location is, and since Clint hadn’t mentioned it, Steve has to assume it means that Hulk can’t help clear a path for the archer to make a shot. Although, the lack of comment from Clint also meant that Steve didn't have to worry about Hulk being any more out of control than he normally was. Given the simple nature of the fight, Steve only hoped that Bruce was actually enjoying a chance to let the Hulk out for some relatively safe smashing.  
  
“Thor? Iron Man?”  
  
“On it.”  
  
“And I shall assist!”  
  
“Black Widow, after Hawkeye makes his shot, take out the witch!”  
  
“Roger Rogers.”  
  
Steve takes a moment to let himself enjoy the grin that came over him and appreciate how well they all could work together now, even going as far as to have entire conversations filled with banter rather than just one-liners. For that, he’d put up with all the ‘Roger Rogers’ jokes they wanted to throw at him. His focus snaps back to the fight as a pumpkin jumps up and tries to scratch his eyes out. Steve's role right now is to make himself into an even bigger target, hopefully distracting enough monsters to give the others a better opportunity to eliminate as many as possible. And Steve can't think of any other better way than make the biggest mess possible out of pumpkin guts and monkey feathers.  
  
The next few minutes are a constant repetition of punching, blocking, and demolishing minions as he makes his way slowly closer to the witch's location. Steve doesn't quite want to admit that he's finding the battle to be a little boring actually. It’s an endless repetition of using either his fist or his shield to impact with the endless number of minions that keep throwing themselves at him. He knows he shouldn’t let his attention drift, but soon enough Steve starts to lament about just wanting to get home to take a long hot shower. He’s not worried about the rest of his team. They’ve faced tougher opponents than this and, other than Tony complaining about the state of the Iron Man armor, Steve doesn’t really expect to hear any complaints or have to issue order for someone to go to medical.  
  
After what seems like an age, he can hear the distinct whine of Iron Man's repulsors, which is shortly followed by a loud crack of thunder. There's maybe a heartbeat's worth of time after that and then Steve can hear a woman's high pitched shriek of pain which means that Clint's gotten his shot in. Steve starts moving towards the witch in earnest now. He can see her, but he’s still too far away to actually do anything yet.  
  
“FOOL!” the witch screams at them from where she’s standing, just slightly off-center of the middle of the circle. She’s not unattractive, but decked out in a flowing black dress, black pointed hat, and ragged black cape, all she needs is a broom to make her look complete. Right now, she’s clutching one of her arms against her chest and glaring out with venom and fire in her eyes. “You think you can stop me?! I have summoned to me creatures of the night! Creatures of vengeance and pain to do my bidding! It is done and nothing you do can st – URK!”  
  
And that would be the sign that Natasha had done her part and knocked the witch out cold. This had the added pleasant surprise of causing the monkeys and pumpkins to disappear in multiple clouds of smoke and dust, leaving on a stray feather or leaf here or there to mark their presence. Steve let out a relieved breath and ran a gloved hand over what little part of his face wasn't covered. God, he could use a shower right then. It wasn't quite being tarred and feathered, but it was close enough. And he might have developed a slight prejudice against any future pumpkins he encountered f. Shame since he liked the taste of pumpkin pie.  
  
“Avengers, report.”  
  
“I call Hulk-duty,” Clint’s voice was the first to speak up over the comms, sounding just as relieved that the fighting was over as Steve. Sadly though, they weren’t done yet.  
  
“Okay. Do you need any assistance Hawkeye?”  
  
“Nah, I'm good. Big guy looks more confused than upset. Shouldn't be hard to get Bruce back.”  
  
“Understood.”  
  
“Uh... Cap? We've got a little problem here.”  
  
“Tony?”  
  
“Our witch is out, but that circle of hers is still glowing like an eerie purple nightlight.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Get over here and see for yourself.”  
  
Looks like that shower was going to have to wait. Hefting his shield with a huff, Steve took off in a quick jog towards where the witch had fallen. And yup, the summoning circle that the witch had been chanting in was still glowing an ominous purple color with the rest of the Avengers, minus Bruce and Clint, eying it warily around the circumference. In fact, it was pulsating with it now in a way it hadn't been before at the start at the battle.  
  
It wasn't exactly the most reassuring sight that Steve had been hoping for. “Thor, do you have any information for us? Or any ideas on how to stop this?”  
  
“Nay, I fear that even were I familiar in the ways of magic, I would not be familiar with these runes of summoning.” admitted Thor. “They are beautiful, but most strange to behold.” The god was crouched on one knee, his fingertips hovering over the glowing script, but taking care that his fingers didn’t actually touch anything. A precaution that Steve could fully agree with, and thankfully it didn't look like anyone else was inclined to get any nearer to the glowing symbols than they had to. Not surprising given the general attitude they had as a group about magic.  
  
“It looks like the bastard language love-child of Arabic and Chinese that had a couple of one night stands with a few other languages along with the way,” Tony commented, his voice losing the slight robotic quality to it mid-sentence as he flipped up the Iron Man faceplate. Steve couldn't help but glance over at Tony, gleaming what he could about the other man’s status from his face alone. He looked tired and sweaty with bags under his eyes, but there weren’t any new marks or signs that Tony was hiding any injuries, so it was in all probability just exhaustion making itself known. “Which doesn't help us much since it's not enough of anything for JARVIS to run a translation on it, nor is it anything he can identify on sight.”  
  
Not knowing exactly what was written around and on the circle left Steve with an uneasy feeling, but he had to push it aside to figure out what they were going to do next. None of them had any idea as to what exactly it was the witch had been summoning, but they weren’t sure if there was enough time to wait until she regained consciousness to ask her.  
  
“Thor, do you think if we disrupt the circle, it'll get the glowing to stop?” It wasn’t the best idea, but it was the only one Steve could come up with to deal with the immediate threat that was glowing before them.  
  
“I cannot be certain, but the odds are in favor if we were to do such a thing,” Thor said, nodding at the idea. Standing, the god hefted his hammer, tapping it lightly against an open palm. “Do you wish for me to undertake the task, Captain?”  
  
“Not just yet,” Steve instructed. “Tony, can you take a picture of the circle to study later?”  
  
“Already done and done, Cap,” answered Tony with a cheeky smirk, and raising two fingers to his forehead in salute. “Take your best shot, Cupcake.”  
  
Not needing to be given another order, Thor started swinging his hammer while everyone else took a step back and braced themselves.  
  
The next thing time that Steve can form a coherent thought, he can recall the sound of Thor's hammer, a blinding flash of light, and the feel of a great force sending him flying backwards and into a pile of crates. He has a feeling that he may have cried out a name, or maybe it was that he had heard someone had called out his name, Steve couldn't be sure. The only thing he knew was that he was in a fair amount of pain, that glowing circle that had once been giving off an ominous feeling, was now nothing more than lines on the cracked ground, and that they hadn't actually managed to stop the summoning after all. Too bad he still had no idea what it was that had been summoned, even with it right in front of him.  
  
Hovering above in the air, about 7 feet off the ground, is a large, black sphere that somehow reminds Steve of shadows wrapped into a soap bubble. He has no way of knowing for certain, but the sphere doesn’t feel like it had been what the witch had trying to summon. Actually, there’s something telling Steve that whatever magic the circle had been giving off before; it was still at work, only now it was concentrated on whatever was inside the black soap bubble.  
  
Getting up cautiously, Steve glances around, trying to spot the rest of his team. Bruce and Clint must have joined them at some point because Bruce is giving Natasha a hand up on his left, and Steve can hear Clint poking at Tony’s armor and calling out to the engineer. To his right, Thor is still standing, although he has his feet braced in the ground and Mjölnir held up in front of him, like a shield. There’s a bewildered look on his face, but he’s not sporting any new bruises. Natasha looks a little dazed, but otherwise unharmed, and he can hear Tony, who’s already trading insults with Clint.  
  
Just as he opens his mouth, either to double-check with his team that they’re all right, or maybe to ask what that blast had been, the black sphere ripples and pops, exactly like a soap bubble. Unlike a regular bubble however, when this bubble pops, there’s a surprise inside waiting for the Avengers. The surprise is a group of men and women in unusual costumes, who look just as surprised to be suddenly suspended in the air as Steve is surprised to see them.  
  
Before anything can be said or done, gravity quickly makes itself known and then Steve has to blink as all but two of the men and women manage to right themselves so that they land in various defensive crouches on the ground instead of an unseemly fall. One of the men had actually managed to grab one of the women, a redhead, before she hit the ground and was now holding her in his arms in a bridal carry. There’s silence from both groups, everyone taking stock of the situation and waiting with baited breath to see what will happen next.  
  
It’s one of the women on the ground, a blonde who hadn’t managed to break her fall in time and had instead, landed on another young man with black hair, that breaks the silence. Steve can’t make out her eyes through the cowl and covered lenses she’s wearing, but her head is twisting around to look at the others who arrived with her. When she speaks, it’s in a surprisingly younger voice than the blond had been expecting. Her voice is more annoyed than scared and Steve doesn’t have to imagine the pout he hears in her voice as she presumably glares at the others around her.  
  
“I hate all of you and all of your favorite bands.”  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Clint has no idea what to make of the people that had suddenly appeared in front of them via black bubble. He does spare a thought on whether it had been the witch who had messed up or if it had been Thor who’d done something because the group standing in front of him don’t look like creatures of darkness, vengeance, and pain. Other than the costumes most of them are wearing, they all look normal enough, so he’s actually not sure what to make of them at all.  
  
He doesn’t think they’re harmless. Far from it really, because he can recognize when someone goes on the defensive and this group, including the redhead being carried, are all on high alert for the slightest wrong move or the slightest hint of a threat. He's just having a hard time pinning down the defensive stance that each one is using. Regular fighters have a different kind of body language than soldiers or assassins do, but these guys are all over the board.  
  
It isn’t until the blonde woman on the ground speaks that Clint can see a thread of tension ease out of the group. They’re still cautious, but not nearly so high strung as they had been a moment earlier. That, as well as the fact that the group hadn’t attacked as soon as they gotten their bearings, gives Clint an cautious bit of optimistic hope that he’ll be able to walk away from this without incurring any new injuries.  
  
Next to him, Tony barks out a laugh drawing a number of eyes to him and Clint can see Steve shaking his head across the way. Clint watches as he shoulders his shield and Steve takes a few careful steps forward, his hands held up in a universal unarmed gesture.  
  
“Are you all right, Miss?” he asks the woman who’s still sitting on the ground. He's got his hand out, offering her a hand up, and seems like he'd be more than willing to stand there for however long it took her to accept his offer.  
  
Both the blonde woman and the guy she landed on look up at Steve and both are giving him looks of disbelief that Clint doesn’t have to see to know that it’s there. Not too much of a surprise there. Steve’s manners have given enough people pause in the past for it to have become an Avengers’ inside joke and an unspoken trump card.  
  
While Steve has the attention of most of the new group of people, Clint uses the opportunity to get a better read on what they’re dealing with.  
  
It’s a group of eight people total, five men and three women. The only one who’s not wearing a mask, helmet, or cowl of some kind is the redhead woman, but she’s wearing glasses and a headset instead. In fact, the redhead stands out amongst the group for a number of reasons. First and foremost is the fact that she’s being held in the arms of a dark haired man who looks like he's a regular at the gym. There hadn't been anyone else who'd bothered to try and catch anyone else, however there hadn't been any looks of surprise at the action taken by the brunette either. That alone would have made the action stand out to Clint. He also can't help but notice that the redhead doesn't seem inclined to leave the man's grasp, nor does it look like he's inclined to drop her anytime soon. Clint can't say for certain one way or another if the two of them are in a romantic relationship, but they are certainly familiar with each other if the ease in their body language is anything to go by.  
  
The redhead has a level of attractiveness that competes with Natasha, and she has Clint remembering old fantasies about glasses and sexy librarians. Her outfit is simple and unassuming, black leggings, a long-sleeved green shirt, and black flats, but Clint's trained eye can make out the muscles of steel in her arms and the shape of her legs. It's her legs that has the archer puzzled. They're toned and in shape, but the definition doesn't match up with the muscle build in her arms. Glasses, the headset, and a fierce expression that has Clint categorizing her as a potential threat completes the picture.  
  
It's only when the archer takes in the whole picture that he realizes why the redhead is amiable to being held. When he does, Clint can feel his eyebrows rise and a baffled expression cross his face. Even knowing what he does, he still gets the feeling to not underestimate the redhead. It makes him take in the man holding her, and the entire group, with a much more clinical eye.  
  
The black haired man holding the redhead is wearing a stylized black mask that has white lenses over his eyes, further hindering any means of identification. He's wearing a black bodysuit that looks like something Tony would have whipped up for Natasha, Steve, or Clint himself. Which means that Clint should consider it more armor than skimpy bodysuit. He can't spot any visible weapons on the guy, although there the hint of something coming from his back over both shoulder blades, and the only color on his outfit is a strip of bright blue that seems to run from the fingertips of one hand, over his shoulders, across his chest, and down the other arm.  
  
With the way the armor hugs the dark haired man's body, it's easy enough to make out the guy's build. He's not build for power, and he lacks the definition in his arms that are the sign of a marksman, but unless all that armor has a hell of a lot of padding to it, Clint would put his money down on he guy being a mover. Maybe even with a bit of acrobatics thrown in given the way he's built and with the way he'd managed to move in mid-air to catch the redhead. Whether or not he has speed to pair with moment, Clint couldn't for certain say, but he'd be willing to bet the answer was 'yes.'  
  
There are still things that Clint could study about the pair, but it's the blonde who draws Clint's attention to her again when she manages to finally respond to Steve's offer. Her answer makes Clint choke on his next breath, trying not to laugh. He can hear Tony's chuckles next to him, obviously approving of someone making Steve blush with just a few words.  
  
“Can I pinch your cheeks? Because, oh my god, you called me 'Miss' and you're offering me your hand and that's so sweet and unbelievable that I have to see if you're real.”  
  
Steve, predictably, turns bright red, but there's a hint of a relaxed smile on his face now. The archer can understand why. It's hard to be on your guard when dealing with someone who's asking to pinch your cheeks and that's calling you 'sweet.'  
  
The blonde in question is also wearing a dark, skin-tight bodysuit that looks more like armor upon closer observation, only hers has a lot more color on it than the other guy's has. All along both of her sides, under her arms, and down her legs, there is a thick strip of dark purple and on her chest rest a dull yellow symbol that reminds Clint quite a bit of a bat. She also appears to be unarmed, unless the belts, one slung around her waist, the same dull yellow color as the bat on her chest, and the other around one of her thighs, are a lot bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside. The blonde's costume continues to differ from the first man's by including a black cape with a scoped bottom that drapes over both the blonde and the dark haired guy underneath her, and a cowl that includes white lenses, a slit somewhere in the back for the blonde's hair to go, and that covers the top part of her face, but leaves her mouth and nose free. The cowl also has tiny pointed ears that makes Clint wonder if they are there purely for decoration or if they serve a secondary purpose.  
  
Personally, Clint approves of the blonde's costume more than he does of the other guy's, if only because of the addition of color. What can he say? He can appreciate someone who can pull off a purple-accented costume.  
  
Her voice had also been pleasant to hear, warm and friendly in a way he wasn't used to. There was a carefree quality and a lack of panic or fear to it that suggested she was good with rolling with the punches and unexpected surprises.  
  
“Whatever you do, do it soon before your weight crushes my spine,” barks out the young man that the blonde had fallen on and Clint has to take a moment after hearing the voice. To say that he, or any of the Avengers, hadn't been expecting to hear a voice as young as the second dark haired male's is something of an understatement. Which, of course, brings Clint's attention to the second costumed visitor now.  
  
Now that he's looking, Clint realizes that the third person is actually just a kid. Sure, he's wearing a stylized mask like the first man, although his is green whereas the first man's had been black, but there's no way to hide the shape of his face and the way his cheeks still have a fair amount of baby fat on them. Coupled with his voice, Clint doesn't think the kid has even reached puberty yet. Maybe not even close to it for a few more years. He's dressed in more bodysuit armor, though his is the brightest and most colorful of the entire lot. The kid's costume includes a bright yellow cape, bright red tunic, bright green boots and gloves, and a bright yellow belt, with the whole outfit completed with black pants and a black undershirt. His costume reminds Clint vaguely of a bird with all the colors to it.  
  
The blonde and the kid are the only ones whose body language speaks less of tension and defense, and more of discomfort and surprise. But that's probably because they're the only ones sprawled out on the ground. Clint decides, however, that he's really going to like the blonde if things go well when she elbows the kid hard in the gut, all while giving Steve a cheerful grin and accepting his hand. Needless to say, he's really hoping that things go well and that these people are not the evil creatures that the witch had been trying to summon.  
  
Steve's obviously torn between laughing at the blonde's actions and reprimanding someone, either of the two on the ground are equally as likely to get a lecture as the other. It looks like the urge to laugh is winning though.  
  
When the blonde and the kid are standing, it seems to have triggered an unspoken signal for the rest of the people who had been summoned because the whole lot visibly relaxed their guards and the flight-or-fight atmosphere that had been surrounding everyone was dissipating with each breath. Clint wasn't assuming that they weren't still on guard, he'd still be ready for a fight in their position after all, but the chances for injuries just took a nose-dive in possibility.  
  
Clint tried not to think of it as closing ranks with the way the new group starts moving towards the blonde and dark haired kid. There are a number of reasons that could explain away the act; the most likely being just a shared group mentality to check in on the youngest and weakest member of the group in a dangerous situation. Whatever the reason is, it gives Clint a chance to check out the last four group members.  
  
The first of the four that Clint's eyes are drawn to is the last remaining female. He doesn't even have to be close to her to know that her footsteps are light and soft enough that she's barely making a sound as she walks. The reason is because it’s familiar to him as one of his bows. She has the same kind of walk that Natasha has when the Black Widow is going after targets and she doesn't want to be heard. Her stride is easy and natural though, meaning it's instinctual and automatic rather than anything she has to think about.  
  
The black bodysuit armor that she's wearing looks like it's less armor and more bodysuit and there's only two areas of color on her, excluding the white wraps on her forearms. One being a yellow outline of a bat on her chest, and the other being the yellow belt, complete with a number of yellow pouches, she's wearing around her waist. She also has a cape, but the ends of it are less cape and more like ragged edges of fabric. A black, simplistic styled mask completes her outfit.  
  
She has the black hair, bone structure, and pale skin coloration that makes Clint think she's either Asian in origin or has a fair amount of Asian blood in her, but as he can only see a bit of her face, it's hard to be sure. Still, Clint can’t help but come up with vague Charlie’s Angels references when he thinks about her and the two other women in a group. He’s placing the odds that Tony will make the joke before he does though.  
  
When the black haired woman checks in with the blonde by way of a hand going to her arm, making the blonde divert her attention from Steve, she moves so that the next people in Clint’s line of sight are a guy wearing a bright red helmet and another black haired man in red and black.  
  
The brightly colored helmet isn’t in a design Clint’s ever encountered before. For one thing, it covers the guy’s entire head and there’s only two white slits where his eyes would normally be. There’s nothing to indicate where a nose or a mouth would be, just the slope of a human face to give it shape. The closest comparison Clint can come up with is how the Iron Man head piece looks. Unlike Iron Man though, this helmet looks like it’s a singular piece rather than several plates of metal welded together.  
  
The helmeted man has on the most normal looking outfit when compared to the others, but he’s still not quite in civilian clothes the way the redhead is. A heavy-duty dark leather jacket and, what looks like jeans, are the normal parts of his outfit, but the man’s shirt is more armor than shirt. There’s another bat on his chest as well, only his is a bright red rather than the yellow the other two’s had been.  
  
Honestly, with the helmet on, if it wasn’t for the Adam’s apple peeking from underneath the guy’s collar and the stacked build of his chest, Clint couldn’t have been sure that it was a man underneath all that. What he can be sure of though, is that this guy is armed and to the teeth. Clint’s already spotted three different guns and at least two knives on the man and he knows with absolute certainly that those aren’t his only weapons.  
  
The man in red and black that the helmeted guy is standing next to is fits in more with the rest of the group that Clint had observed. He’s got more of the bodysuit armor, scoped edge black cape, and a black cowl that covers everything but the lower parts of his face and mouth. His cowl though, lacks the same pointed ears that had been on the blonde’s, but it has the same whited out lenses over his eyes.  
  
The red on the guy’s costume is actually covers his entire upper torso, but that’s broken up by two black belts that cross over his chest in an ‘X’ formation and a third belt around his waist. Spaced out on the belts are small yellow capsules and in the middle of the ‘X,’ right in the center of the man’s chest, is a yellow and black buckle with some the symbol of some kind of bird on it. A bird of prey maybe?  
  
Seemingly unarmed, standing next to the man in the red helmet, this guy doesn’t look nearly as intimidating, nor nearly as muscled, but Clint’s not about to count him out either. However, when compared to the last member of their group, the guy in red and black looks delicate and tiny in comparison.  
  
The last man is a solid wall of black muscle, with hints of gray to provide contrast. Black cowl with black pointed ears and white lenses, black scoped cape, black gloves, boots, and a black bat insignia in the middle of his impressively muscled chest are what Clint makes out on the last man. The only bit of color is on the dull gold colored belt that also has a number of pouches on it. His gait is heavy and purposeful and reminds Clint a lot of Fury. Especially with the air of authority the guy gives off that Clint can even feel from where he’s standing. This man is obviously the leader of their group, which is made even more obvious by the way he stares Steve in the eye and puts himself in between Steve and the two women who take a half-step back in response.  
  
“Where are we? How did we get here? Who are you?”  
  
Clint can feel his eyebrow climb upon hearing the man’s voice. That type of growl can’t be good for his vocal chords. Steve blinks at the address, short and almost demanded rather than asked, but the guy manages to keep his temper despite it.  
  
“You’re in New York,” he answers, as polite as ever. “You were brought here by a witch’s spell when she was trying to summon something. We stopped her, but the circle she was using still brought you here somehow. I’m Captain America and these are the Avengers. May I know who you are?”  
  
For some reason, Steve’s question has the helmeted man bark out a laugh and his chuckles continue even when all eyes are directed his way. Strangely enough, the laugh lacks the robotic quality to it that Tony’s does when the Iron Man’s faceplate is down. In fact, it doesn’t sound like there anything covering the guy’s mouth at all, despite evidence to the contrary. At least it does confirm Clint’s assumption on the helmeted man’s gender.  
  
“I knew that felt too much like one of Bob’s trips to be coincidence,” he says, amusement coloring his voice. With a nod at the man in all black, he goes on. “And I know you’ve done enough traveling that you can recognize it too B.” By the tightening of B’s lips, he knows what it is that the helmeted guy’s talking about and he’s not happy with it. Not that either fact helps Clint understand what the connection is with what’s said next.  
  
“God I hate Halloween,” the man in red and black states, bringing his forehead to rest in the palm of his hand. The man who is still carrying the redhead gives the other man a rueful grin and somehow manages to shrug despite having his hands full. He gets a swat from the redhead for the action, but she doesn’t look particularly upset with him.  
  
“It does explain things though.”  
  
“And what explanation is that, exactly?” Bruce speaks up. His tone is wary, but it always is when dealing with a potential new threat. He’s not hanging around in the background though, so that’s a good sign. Or it could be his natural curiosity getting the best of him and putting him at risk. Either way, Clint’s just happy to hear the scientist’s voice and contributing to the conversation. Bruce usually isn’t so coherent or willing to speak to strangers after a visit from the Big Guy.  
  
“It means we’re travelers from another dimension and we demand to be taken to your leader,” the blonde woman beamed with a giggle.  
  
Oh yeah, the blonde is so Clint’s favorite.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have another long pointless part where not much gets done, but where Tony talks an awful lot. 
> 
> I mean it. The only thing that gets done are some introductions, but I wanted to stay on a roll and POST things.

This was shaping up to be one of the most interesting debriefing meetings in the history of debriefing meetings that Tony had ever been a part of. He was actually willing to pay attention to this one, and wouldn't Pepper be proud of him to hear that? The reason for that mostly being because the subject of the debrief wasn’t him and his screw up for once, and Fury was directing his ire at someone else. Not that Tony knew how much good that was going to do when the other guy that Fury was trying to stare down seemed to be just as good at starring people down himself. 

Seriously, it was epic. 

After the perky blonde had asked to see their leader, a line that Tony could wholeheartedly agree with and was totally giving her points for, none of their new visitors had said a word. Not a single peep crossed their lips, although they were able to communicate with each other somehow. Tony suspected mutant powers, especially after all of them had refused to let anyone take a look at them or to take off their various pieces of headgear. Even Coulson, with all of his secret ninja SHIELD voodoo skills, hadn’t been able to get a word out of them. There seemed to be only one choice after that.

Additional transportation was arranged, the shortest and fastest trip to medical was conducted, and 45 minutes later, the Avengers, Fury, Coulson, Hill and their new visitors were all sitting around a SHIELD conference table in one of the rooms on the helicarrier. Or, to exact, the Avengers, Fury, Coulson, and Hill were sitting around the table while seven out of eight of their visitors were standing on one side, taking everything in. The eighth, the redhead, was actually seated on the table because, apparently, she was a paraplegic and the helicarrier wasn’t very wheelchair friendly. 

That’s what it looked it anyways, but Tony was suspicious of the fact that the redhead had switched out her clear glasses for opaque sunglasses somewhere when no one had been looking and, ever since, her fingers had been restlessly tapping on any available surface. But if she was being sneaky, it was the kind of sneaky that Tony could approve of. 

“I'll ask you again,” Fury growled. “Where do you come from and who the hell are you?”

God, what Tony wouldn't give for some popcorn right now. Fury was turning nearly purple while the guy with the over-inflated chest and the dark and dreary fashion sense just stared back at him impassively. And it wasn’t lost on Tony the fact that Fury was barking out the same questions that the guy had asked them a short time ago.

“Sir, perhaps,” Coulson began, looking as impassive as ever, although Tony thought he might have seen a twitch in the corner of the agent's eye. He was interrupted however, by the redhead suddenly speaking up.

“We're clear B. Hood's right and we're not in Kansas anymore,” she announced. The hand that had been tapping, now he knew for certain, purposely on the table stopped now as she reached up to take off the sunglasses. There was a tiny smirk on her face that Tony thought suited her much better than the impassive, stone face she'd been wearing earlier. “I checked for key names and places and they don't exist here. And I'm pretty sure we would have known about the existence of a government agency called S.H.I.E.L.D., especially one as big and has its fingers in as many pies as this one does.”

“You've been hacking,” Tony accused gleefully. “I knew it! With those glasses and when you were tapping your fingers and everything!”

“Stark, if you knew she was hacking, why didn't you stop her?” demanded Fury, turning his ire back to, what Tony knew to be his favorite target. Him.

“There was no proof! And I'm not about to go attacking really attractive, paraplegic redheads just on a suspicion of wrong-doing!” Tony countered. “Pepper would have my balls for that and I like them right where they are.”

“You could have tried attacking me,” the redhead snarked, smiling as she replaced her glasses. Tony couldn't help but note that there might have been a few too many teeth in that smile to feel safe about the look she was giving him.

“That is a very dangerous smile and you are a very dangerous lady and yet, I'm finding myself still horribly attracted to you.” And Tony's charm came through for him one again as the redhead let loose a few chuckles. They were a deep and rich sound that had Tony and a number of the other people around her smiling in return. 

“Right! Now that we've cleared that, let’s start over, shall we?” the dark haired man with the baby blue bird symbol suggested, clapping his hands and, there was no other word for it, beamed at them. Tony did not think a normal person's smile could be that white and shiny outside of toothpaste commercials. Well, Steve maybe, but Steve was the exception to a lot of the normal rules. The guy took a step forward to stand next to the muscled man, nodding at Fury as he did so. “And I think some introductions are due, yeah? You'll understand if we're not comfortable giving out our real names on a government aircraft carrier, even if we are in other world, but we can give you our code names to use. I'll even start. You can call me Nightwing.”

And then he took a step back to go into an elaborate bow directed at the smiling redhead seated on the table, complete with an elaborate arm flourish and a kiss to the lady's hand. “And this is the ever lovely, merciful, and ruthless queen of our crazy little coven known only as Oracle.”

“Wow, I have no idea how you managed to say something so cheesy with a straight face and I'm not sure if I'm envious of your ability to do so or not. So I'm going to go with option three and continue on with the introductions since it's I have no idea why I haven't introduced myself yet, other than a poor lapse in judgment and bad manners. I'm Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man and I’m the resident billionaire, genius, playboy philanthropist.” 

Since he was already on a roll and it made him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside seeing Fury seethe, Tony kept up with the introductions, pointing out each person as he did so. 

“Because he’s got better manner than all of us combined apparently, this is the Capsicle known as Captain America, which he introduced himself as, but he also goes by Steve Rogers. And oh my god, are you actually waving at them? Right, going on. 

Next to him is the absolutely terrifying , and I mean that in every way imaginable, Natasha ‘I’ll kill you with a dull pen’ Romanova, code name Black Widow. Her favorite partner-in-crime and our resident needy middle child is Clint Barton who also sometimes answers to Hawkeye, Legolas, Katniss, and Mr. ‘Get Down From There Now Before I Tase You Barton.’ 

Over here we have my personal favorite, Bruce Banner, and you are not allowed to steal him or there will be consequences. I poached his brain fair and square and everything else that comes with it. He’s also known as the Hulk and trust me, you’ll know why we call him Hulk when you meet him.

Mr. Muscles next to him is Thor, no code name needed, our resident Asgardian royalty and eater of all that is sugary and Pop-Tart-y. His hammer is not his penis, but both are very impressive, or so I’ve been told.

Dread Pirate Nick Fury and his crew of SHIELD minions, also known as Maria Hill, or she of the threats and horrible cheating poker face, and Agent Phil Coulson, who I’ve only been recently convinced doesn’t have the first name of ‘Agent.’

And that concludes the introduction into the wonderful world of the Avengers and SHIELD. Now please remember that sharing is caring and give us something to call you otherwise I will be forced to come up with something and no one wants that. Really, no one.”

There was only silence in the room once Tony was finally done, but he could feel the glare that Fury and Hill were sending his way. The rest of his team however, was trying not to laugh out-right at him, but their grins were harder to hide. Coulson just sighed and pinched the area between his eyes, already resigned to Tony’s special brand of insanity.  
When the silence was finally broken, it was by the guy with the giant ‘X’ across the middle of his chest, and he didn’t sound nearly as dazed as most people did after dealing with Tony Stark for the first time. Which was a rather impressive feat, all things considered.

“… I think the last time that I’ve ever heard someone talk that much it was because someone gave Bart an espresso shot.” 

“Who the hell thought it’d be a good idea to give Bart an espresso?” Nightwing asked, a look of disbelief on his masked face. And Tony really wanted to know how they did that, show expressions and do things with their eyes, while wearing masks.

“Rose.”

“Ah, yeah. She would be the one to do that.”

“If you two are done, perhaps we can continue?” the youngest member snapped. Tony was reminded of a small bird or cat puffing itself up to seem larger than it was, especially when the kid crossed his arms over his chest and turned to glare at the rest of the room. “I am Robin and I will not tolerate any derogatory comments about my name.”

“Get over yourself Babybird,” drawled the guy wearing the helmet. Only now he was reaching up behind his head to do something that caused a hiss to sound and then the helmeted guy was a guy with black hair and a red mask on. Tony felt one of his eyebrows quirk upwards. Was it really necessary to wear a mask underneath a giant red helmet? 

“You really need to learn how to play better with others if you want to be a real boy someday. Red Hood, and because I really want to get this shit over with,” and then he began gesturing with his helmet as he went around the group, briefly pausing as he finished the introductions. “Red Robin, Batman, Batgirl, and Black Bat. Now can be please get this little pow-wow over with so I can find someplace to sleep? And fuck you B, it was Halloween. I was not going to just sit it out.”

That last part threw Tony for a loop and he glanced at Steve to see if the blond had any idea what Red Hood meant by that last line. Steve met his eyes and gave the smallest of shrugs. Right, so he had no idea either, but he wasn’t going to comment on it. Because the guy was polite that way. 

“Well maybe now that the meet and greet is over, someone can give me some answers!” Fury very nearly shouted. “I want to know where you people are from and what you’re intentions are.”

“Wow, you need so many hugs right now,” Batgirl commented lightly, not the least bit intimidated by either Fury’s tone or the glare he was sending her way. Tony had to stuff a fist in his mouth to stop himself from laughing outright at the expression on the one-eyed man’s face. He was really starting to like these new guys. 

“We were the ones who were brought here,” Batman stated. Huh, didn’t that growly voice hurt after a while? “What makes you think we have any answers for you or know anything that you would want to hear? It’s more important to know how we were brought here so that we can be sent back.”

“Yes, however the spell that brought you here was calling creatures of vengeance, darkness, and pain,” Coulson said blandly. “I’m sure you can understand why we’re hesitant to just send you back given the circumstances of your arrival. If necessary, we will detain you in holding cells until we can reach some measure of cooperation.”

There was a story there as every single one of the costumed group had grins on their faces, Batgirl and Nightwing even going as far as to let out a few giggles, at Coulson’s statement. Even Batman’s lips were quirked upwards, like they were all in on some kind of private joke. They were only supporting Tony’s belief that they all had mutant telepathic abilities though. 

“Sir, I don’t think that will be necessary,” Steve argued. “The witch was never able to complete her spells. We don’t know for sure that these are the people she was trying to summon.”

“The magics of the circle were most unusual,” Thor agreed. “I did not recognize the runes that were used, nor have I ever seen any like it before.”

“And we never said we wouldn’t cooperate,” Oracle added. “But we would rather do it on our own terms. I’m sure you can understand that, as strangers in a new place, we're a little uneasy about just putting our fate in someone else hands.”

“And what terms might those be?” Hill asked, not even bothering to hide the suspicion in her voice. 

“How about after we make sure it isn’t you guys that are the ones to watch out for?” Red Hood countered. What was it with this group and being able to smile in a way that had too much teeth and had Tony checking his bracelets to make sure that they were there?

“You want to observe us,” accused Natasha.

“… You know, that actually doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Bruce remarked, tapping a pen against the table as he thought the idea through. “I’m sure there are a number of things we could learn from each other if you are indeed from another world. It’ll be like a cultural exchange, only with more superheroes and less pillaging of lands involved.”

“I'm down with that,” Tony immediately agreed. Really, anything to get away from Fury and to get a chance to talk to the newcomers in a slightly more private setting. Especially the redhead and her hacking tools. “I am so down with that that I'll even let them stay at my tower. In fact, I insist because, lets face it, my tower is awesome.”

“The idea has merit sir,” Hill begrudgingly agreed. “Particularly if Stark is willing to house them.” Because Tony's tower was also the place where the Avengers stayed. And having the Avengers around, keeping an eye on things meant Fury didn't have to do it himself and split his already limited vision. What with the one eye and all.

But whatever. Tony knew it was in the bag once Steve started throwing his hopeful puppy eyes around. If the man had a tail, it would have been wagging. Seriously, a guy with Steve's build should not have been able to pull off the 'hopeful puppy' look, but it just proved that Steve was the exception to so many rules about what should and shouldn't have been possible.

Fury had to be a controlling ass though and actually paused, as if he was actually considering to NOT let them off the helicarrier and into Tony's more than capable hands. 

“Fine,” he finally stated reluctantly. And before he could go on, probably about boring things like rules, and regulations, and expectations, and things that Tony could or could not do which didn't matter anyway because it wasn't like Tony was going to listen to Fury anyway, Tony shot up and out of his seat and over to his very new, and very shiny, okay maybe not so shiny since there was a LOT of black in their costumes but they were still oh so very new, house-guests. Clapping his hands and then grasping the shoulders of his two favorites, after Oracle of course, Nightwing and Batgirl, Tony began ushering the group out the door, rambling as he did so.

“All right then! Now that things have been decided, everyone's been introduced, I think it's high time that we, and by we I mean me, show you where you'll be staying for the duration of your stay in our lovely little dimension. I'm quite fond of the place, even if I have to share it. But I am fond of it and I should be since it's my name on the tower and did I mention I'm a genius and a billionaire? Because I am and you should be prepared to have your socks knocked off in awe and amazement.”

“STARK!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do have a tumblr for anyone that may be interested in random word counts and other misc things, not all of which will be related to the fic.
> 
> http://clio-clover.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THINGS HAPPEN! Sort of...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, things move at a faster pace when you're only writing a small group of people rather than the dozen plus group of two combined superhero teams.

“I've seen better.”

Steve had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the laughter that bubbled up and was threatening to spill out at the frank statement from Robin and the look of shock and disbelief that came over Tony's face upon hearing it. It wasn't very polite and he knew that Tony would be crushed if he laughed, but he wasn't quite able to contain all his mirth as he could feel the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

Clint however, had no such reservations. The archer was bent nearly double, one hand going around his waist and the other resting on Natasha's shoulder for support.

“Ignore him,” Batgirl instructed, waving a hand about and walking down the steps that lead to the central lounging area. She happily vaults over the back of the couch and stretches out on the cushions with a deep sigh of contentment. “Robin's just being a brat. And thanks for putting us up.”

“It's no trouble,” Tony manages to say a second later, once his brain has a chance to catch up to the situation and forgetting about the blatant dismissal from their youngest guest. He glances back at the rest of the group, who are milling about. Nightwing and Batman are, however, still standing in the doorway, having a whispered conversation about something, voices low enough that Steve has a hard time catching any of what they're saying. 

He wants to know what they're talking about, but from the heated way they're gesturing, it's probably something personal or something related to the rest of their group. If Steve had to guess, Batman and Nightwing are the leaders of the group, either officially or unofficially, which means the decision on what to do next rests on them, and right now, they're in disagreement about their next move. His guess is only supported by the fact that no one else seems bothered by the fact that the two of them are almost in the other person's face. Black Bat and Red Robin have joined Batgirl on the couch, while Red Hood is checking out the bar and recently added refrigerator. Steve spares a passing thought to wonder if Red Hood is old enough to drink or not, but he puts the thought aside for later. Oracle, who was now free to move about on her own as they had managed to find her a wheelchair before leaving the helicarrier, was over by the windows, gazing down at the street below. And Robin was standing near Nightwing and Batman, arms crossed and defiant, like a tiny guard protecting their conversation from interlopers. 

“I hope you're comfortable here enough to tell us what your real names are,” Bruce encouraged. He gave the group on the couch a wan smile. “It's going to get a little odd calling you by your code names all the time.”

Red Robin shrugged. “It wouldn't be that unusual for us.”

“But you know our names,” Bruce pointed out. 

“Again, not that unusual of a situation.”

“If we do or don't, it's up to the Boss and Disco,” Red Hood stated, coming up to slap on hand on Bruce's shoulder, lightly startling the scientist. The other was holding an apple that he bite into with relish. Steve felt an eyebrow quirk upwards as he turned to share a look with Natasha and Clint. Despite the fact that Red Hood was wearing heavy boots, he was barely making any noise as he walked over to the couches. The fact that he didn't look like he was trying do so was actually the part that Steve was the most impressed with.

“Ah, Disco?” asked Bruce. 

“One of Red Hood's nicknames for Nightwing,” Red Robin explained, shoving Batgirl's legs off his lap when she had sprawled out over him. He was smiling as he did so though and she was grinning in return, although they both squawked when Red Hood came over to ruffle both their heads before claiming a seat of his own. 

Normally Steve headed back to his room or to the gym after a meeting with Fury, although lately he'd been heading down to Tony's lab instead, but he was curious enough about their visitors that he found himself staying and taking a seat at the bar instead. At least he wasn't in uniform anymore, so it wasn't as if he had anywhere else he wanted or needed to be. 

Their guests didn't seem at all bothered by the fact that they had been dropped into a whole new world. If anything, they were acting like they were on a vacation, other than refusing to take off any of their masks or cowls. Once again, Steve found himself wondering where they had come from and what they were doing wearing outfits like superheroes. Although Robin had been the one to state it, it didn't look like any of them were actually impressed with the tower. Like they were used to things of luxury or apartments located at the top of massive skyscrapers. They hadn't looked bothered or impressed with being on the helicarrier either. 

He wondered what they would make of JARVIS when they heard him for the first time. Steve figured that he hadn't spoken up yet because there hadn't been any requests, or in Tony's case – demands, or questions for him to respond to. Either that, or Tony had purposefully told him to not say anything until he said so. Any of the reasons were possible.

“B does know it's impractical for us to be constantly suited up, right?” Batgirl wondered out loud. 

“Batman is your leader then?” Natasha guessed, joining the group around the couch. She had changed as well and looked more like a real person rather than the SHIELD assassin she actually was. “And Nightwing's his second?”

“Batman is our leader, yes,” confirmed Black Bat, speaking up for the first time. Immediately, all of the Avengers were directing their gazes at her, surprised. All this time and it was now that she'd chosen to speak? Steve had wondered if she was mute, but no. Her voice was soft and melodic, if slightly halting for the few words she'd said. It reminded Steve of silk and he found himself hoping she'd go on talking. “Nightwing is Nightwing though. He's not our second.” 

“Nightwing is also right here and can hear you talking about him,” Nightwing cheerfully announced, strolling over to where everyone else was. He didn't even bother with the steps, just jumping over them and flinging himself in a chair, his long legs danging over an arm. “And yes, I managed to convince Batman about the impracticality of ID's and masks while we're here. Given what Oracle managed to pull up, it's not going to matter if we do or don't either way.”

Judging from the glower on Batman's face, or what Steve could make out on Batman's face, he hadn't been happy about losing the argument with the younger man. Although the phrasing of Nightwing's sentence had him confused, it made sense to the others, so Steve just wrote it off as another quirk that belonged to their group.

“OH THANK GOD!” Batgirl cheered, hands automatically going to her cowl and pushing it off a second later. Steve thought he might have heard a faint 'click' just before blonde hair and blue eyes were revealed, but he couldn't be sure. Running a hand through her hair, Batgirl gave everyone a tired, but pleased grin. “Having constant cowl-hair is not how I wanted to spend my time in a new dimension. I don't know how you can stand it.”

Her last line had been directed at Red Robin, who was also pushing his cowl off to reveal a fair amount of black hair and blue eyes. He just gave her a bemused smile and shrugged. One by one, masks were taken off, with the application of a spray of some kind that was passed around, and cowls were removed and pushed back. Oracle had wheeled herself away from the window to watch the proceedings, her chin resting in an upturned palm and smiling gently at the gather group. It took a moment for it to make its way through his consciousness once everyone was unmasked, but once it did, Steve found himself starring for the second time in as many minutes. 

They were all so young. Batgirl, Black Bat, Red Hood, Red Robin... They couldn't have been any older than their mid-twenties, at best. Oracle and Red Hood were the oldest looking, but Steve wouldn't have put either of them in anywhere near 30 yet.

“DAMNIT NIGHTWING! HANDS OFF” 

Steve felt his head snap around to see Nightwing, who he hadn't even heard or seen moving, tackling Robin to the ground and spraying a bottle of the same spray that everyone else had been using, on the child's face. Robin was giving it his all and was almost desperately trying to wriggle out of the older man's grasp, but Nightwing only grinned wider and continued to tussle with the younger. Soon enough, however, the older man won out and managed to fully remove the mask over Robin's face with a bright laugh.

Sitting up and rubbing his face where the edges of the green mask had once sat, Robin glared at Nightwing. “I could have done that myself,” he stated petulantly. 

“But you wouldn't have,” Nightwing sang happily, lounging on the ground like a contented cat. Twisting his head to face Batman, he continued to grin, only now his smile took on a slightly more manic edge to it. “Don't make me come over there and take yours off too Boss-Man. I’ll do it and you know I won’t hold back.”

Batman stared at Nightwing a moment longer before heaving a sigh and his hands go to the cowl. This time, Steve knows he hears a faint clicking sound before the cowl is being removed and the handsome face of a man who looks like he’s around Tony’s age, with black hair and blue eyes, stares back at Nightwing now. 

“Happy?”

Steve feels an eyebrow rise. This time, when Batman speaks, his voice sounds normal, not the gravel and growl voice that he had been using before. It's deep and has a slight husky quality to it, but it's not unpleasant to listen to. It is almost the exact opposite actually. If Steve had been asked, he wouldn’t have initially suspected that the growl that Batman used came from the same voice that spoke now, which was probably the entire point. 

“Very,” Nightwing purrs and Steve can feel a blush threatening to take over his face. He hadn’t expected to hear THAT kind of tone coming from one of their guest. Especially not so brazenly or coming from anyone that wasn’t Tony. Clearing his throat, Steve does his best to will away the flush he can still feel on his cheeks. He looks back to the group around the couch only to be greeted with the smirks of his team and the rest of their assembled guest.

“Wow, we haven’t even been here a full day and someone’s already got a boner for Nightwing,” Batgirl remarks idly, chin propped up in both hands and elbows resting on the back of the couch, watching Steve watch the trio behind him. Wriggling her eyebrows, a sly expression crosses her face, and Steve has a second to wonder what her expression means before she’s speaking again. “Not that I’m really surprised. Man has an ass and a level of flexibility that should be considered illegal. It’s fun in the bedroom, but so very not fair when he can bend in ways that shouldn’t be possible for anyone with a spine.” 

And then she’s turning to Tony and asking if there’s any where she can shower and get a change of clothes at. Steve doesn’t catch the look on Tony’s face or what’s said next as his mind whites out for a second. 

It’s not that he wants to have sex with Nightwing, fair from it, but the costume the other man wears is very form fitting and doesn’t leave that much to the imagination. And from an artistic point of view, Nightwing is aesthetically pleasing on multiple levels. The layers of muscle on his body, the strong, but not overly masculine bone structure of his face, and the slightly exotic slant of his eyes would have been enough to make him any art student’s favorite study, but the finer details like the laugh lines around his eyes, the bright, bright blue of his eyes, the fall of his hair, and the feel of motion his body seems to exude make him into something any professional could draw inspiration from. Imagining the lines of his body bending, moving, and flowing with actual motion has Steve itching to ask for a demonstration of how Nightwing likes to move and for some paper and pencils. To be fair and honest though, Steve also wants to ask all of the newcomers for their permission to sketch their lines and forms onto paper. 

Putting all of that into a sexual context however, has him coming up a whole new set of scenarios, although with a different dark haired man in mind, and that has him blushing to his roots. He’s forced to take a deep breath to shift his focus to something else. 

Steve comes back to the conversation just in time to hear Tony say; “ – and I’ve already told JARVIS to order a couple things for you to wear until we can take you out shopping.”

“We couldn’t just have JARVIS order something for us?” Oracle questions, a smile dancing on her lips. Her demeanor makes it easy to see why Nightwing had called her a queen, but if she’s a queen, she’s a warm one. “And you are a terrible host and not introducing JARVIS to us when we arrived. Although, I should let you know, for the sake of property damaged and injuries that might occur, it’s probably in your best interest not to try and surprise us.” The smile must have been for the, well, gob-smacked is the best word for it, expression on Tony’s face when the redhead just blows Tony’s favorite surprise out of the water however. 

“My apologies ma’am, but Sir insisted that he wanted to do the introductions personally,” JARVIS’s voice speaks up for the first time. By the lack of reaction from the group, Oracle must have found out about the AI and informed the others. Steve couldn’t help but be impressed by her ability to gather intell, even as he frowned, reviewing his previous thought. There’s something there that doesn’t fit, but he’s not sure what it is. “However, if you wish for it and Sir allows, it would be no trouble to order you whatever you wish.”

“You people take all the fun out of being a genius,” Tony pouts. Red Hood only chuckles and waves a lazy hand, taking in the whole group.

“What, adding three more to your collection isn’t fun enough?”

“You’re a genius?” Natasha’s voice is skeptical, but not insulting. She’s just curious and understandably so. Red Hood doesn’t feel like someone who lacks his fair share of intelligence, but he doesn’t have the same distracted and focused air that either Bruce or Tony have either. “You also haven’t told us any of your names.”

“It’s Jason,” Jason, Red Hood, drawls, purposely not answering Natasha’s first question, if the look on his face is anything to go by. It’s challenging and arrogant, but not without a touch of mischief. Before Natasha can open her mouth to say anything else, Black Bat’s soft voice stops her.

“Cassandra.” And then, with everyone’s eyes on her, she goes on to give the names of the rest of her group, much like Jason had done earlier, with the smallest nod of her head for each person. “Stephanie. Tim. Barbara. Damian. Dick. Bruce.”

There are returning nods, smiles, or waves as Cassandra gets to each person. Clint chokes on a snigger when she gets to Dick’s name though.

“Seriously? Dick?”

“Make whatever jokes you want, I have heard and made them all,” Dick announces, an eyebrow quirked in challenge and a teasing smile makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. From the gleeful look on Clint’s face, the archer has accepted the challenge and Steve resigns himself to spend however long enduring the puns and jokes that are ahead. 

“Can you two have your penis contest later?” Stephanie whines. She’s now slumped over Cassandra dramatically, with the Asian girl patting her back comfortingly, an amused smile making her face soft and affectionate. “There are showers, Dick. Showers, and food, and sleep, and then shopping to be done for some of us while the rest make with the science and magic to figure out how to get us home. And FYI, I’m on the shopping team.”

Tony laughs and Steve can feel himself grinning as well. Even Natasha is smiling her soft half-smile that she has when she’s amused by someone or something. Stephanie is refreshingly normal and accepting, despite the situation that she and all the others are being faced with, that Steve can’t help but find himself charmed by the girl and her resilience. 

She’s right. There’s time enough later to ask the questions that Steve has. In the meantime, he’s looking forward to getting to know these new visitors for however long they’ll be here. If they’re anything like their blonde companion, he’ll be sad to see them go when it finally time.

~

“You’re suspicious of them.”

It’s a statement and not an accusation, which lets Phil know that Clint can understand his feelings on the matter, if he doesn’t share them himself. Phil taps the end of his pen once on the papers he’s filling out in acknowledgment, of both Clint's presence and his statement, but he doesn’t say anything else just yet. Clint understands his meaning regardless and walks the rest of the way into the room that had become Phil’s office at the tower. Natasha files in after him, graceful and silent as ever, but there’s a note of tension that Phil can read in her walk. No doubt in regards to the temporary invasion of their home from people who claim to be from another world.

“We have no idea what they’re intentions are, nor what they are fully capable of doing,” Phil states once the two agents have situated themselves. It’s just rehashing information that they all know right now, but it is still something that needs to be said. “All we know is that the person who was identified as Oracle was able to secure enough information to determine, according to her, that they were indeed in another world other than their own. Information which also included the knowledge of JARVIS’s existence, something that isn’t public knowledge, all in under an hour, and all through SHIELD’s networks. Without having access to the device she used, we don’t know what else she might have found.”

It didn’t need to be said, but Clint and Natasha could hear the begrudging admiration in Phil’s tone. It wasn’t only for Oracle's skill, although that’s what made up the bulk of it. The efficiency, stealth, and finesse of the retrieval had won a measure of his respect as well. Phil understood Stark’s method of diversion by way of flashy explosions and big talk, and it worked for people like Tony Stark and Clint, when the archer was feeling like being a ham, but he appreciated someone who knew how to stay in the background, like Natasha and like himself. Oracle had drawn just enough attention to herself to make it known that she wasn’t hiding, but the focus was more on her inability to walk than on her actions, leaving her free to do what she needed to right under people’s noses. 

Phil had a feeling, however, that he was only seeing the tip of the iceberg and that none of the new players were going to reveal all of their cards to just anyone. Something that put him at ease from the familiar behavior and made him keep a wary eye out in equal measures. 

“They don’t read like threats though,” Natasha said, seemingly reading his mind and voicing his thoughts somehow. She couldn’t, but it didn’t change her talent for doing so in any way. “They’re dangerous, but not in a way we can’t trust.” 

“We need more information on them,” Phil sighed, personally agreeing with Natasha’s assessment. 

“Well it’s a good thing we know where they’re staying then,” Clint finished with a smirk.

~

It’s not the smell of baked goods, cinnamon, vanilla, coffee, and cream that greets Bruce when he makes his way to the communal kitchen the next morning that has him pausing in the doorway. Sometimes Bruce or one of the others will wake up and decide to make breakfast for everyone, so smells indicating that someone has taken upon them the task of cooking isn’t too unusual. What has him pausing in the doorway, just short of actually entering the kitchen, is the music. 

The song that’s playing is one of those horribly catchy, upbeat, and energetic pop songs that Bruce imagines college kids who weren’t awkward geniuses spending all their time in labs, listens to. He knows that Steve’s been working on acclimating himself to the 21st century by listening to the evolution of music though the years, but the lyrics of this song would have left Steve a blushing and stuttering mess rather than something he’d put on repeat.

Instead of standing the doorway and just wondering who choice in music is playing over JARVIS’s sound systems, Bruce takes the final steps to bring him into the kitchen and what he sees makes a lot of sense when he thinks about properly.

Stephanie, wearing an apron over work-out shorts and a tank top, whose hair is up in a neat ponytail, is dancing around the kitchen to the music, occasionally singing one line or another into the plastic spatula she’s using. Behind her, covering every square inch of the island that separates the kitchen and the breakfast nook are plates and plates of food. Bacon, eggs, pancakes, waffles, pancakes, toast, fruit, muffins, cereal, oatmeal, and pots and pots of coffee suggest that Stephanie had been up for a while. There’s even a kettle of hot water for tea to complete the set.

“Morning!” she chirps happily when she spins around to place another couple of pancakes onto a plate and sees Bruce eying all the food that’s assembled. She doesn't seem surprise to see Bruce or by his arrival. “You can turn off the music JARVIS, thanks! “

“You’re most welcome Ms. Stephanie.”

Stephanie beams at the ceiling before plucking out a muffin and holding it out to Bruce. “Hungry?”

There’s nothing else Bruce can do save for accept the muffin and take a seat at the bar, but not before he makes himself a cup of tea with a bemused smile. Stephanie is pouring the last of the batter onto a hot skillet and seems to be right at home in a strange kitchen, which is why it takes Bruce a moment to see it. And then he wonders how he missed such a large detail in the first place.

Littered all over Stephanie’s body are scars, of varying sizes and shapes, and far more than any young woman Bruce has ever met has had. The majority of them have the look of being nothing more than old faded memories, but there are a few on her arms that have the bright pinkness to them that tell of only being recently healed. 

He doesn’t realize he’s staring until Stephanie turns around and catches him at it, one eyebrow raised in an unspoken query. Bruce only barely resist the urge to flush, like he’d been caught doing something inappropriate, and instead, tears into the muffin he’d been given. It has the imperfect taste and shape of a real homemade muffin, but it’s still nothing to scoff at. It’s certainly better than anything he could have made.

“You certainly know how to bake, but it looks like you’re expecting a small army,” Bruce comments once he’s able to speak without a mouthful of food. Stephanie chuckles as she gives a shrug.

“In my experience, people with powers or abilities tend to eat a lot and there’s also eight more of us to consider, so enough food for a small army might just be enough,” she says. Bruce watches as, with a clever flick of her wrist, the blonde tosses the pancake in the air and then catches it in the pan a second later. “You can ask, you know. I won’t be offended.”

Bruce doesn’t even pretend to insult her intelligence and ask what she means, nor does he wonder where she’d gotten the information about the Avengers having people with abilities came from. It might not be polite and he’s certainly not a medical doctor, but the sight of so many scars on such a young woman is painful and distressing.

“How did you get all those?”

“Kicking butt and taking names,” Stephanie answers promptly. Bruce frowns as she slides the last pancake onto a plate and then dumps the dirty pan into the sink to be dealt with later. Grabbing a waffle and another small plate, Stephanie takes a seat next to Bruce and points at him with a fork in one hand and pours syrup with the other. “I am in no way shape or form ashamed of the way I look or the marks on my body. I’m the one in charge of my own life and this is how I chose to live it.”

“I wasn’t implying that you should be ashamed,” Bruce defended, holding his hands up surrender. “I was just surprised that you had so many, and curious to how you got them. Kicking butt and taking names? Does that have something to do with the costumes you were wearing yesterday?”

“We were wondering if it would be necessary or not to explain what we do, but I guess this answers that question well enough,” Stephanie muses mostly to herself it seems, tapping her fork against her bottom lip. She gives a halfhearted careless shrug and continues, going back to the conversation she was having with Bruce. “To answer your question though, yeah, those costumes are what we wear when we go out and fight crime. People kind of collectively refer to us as the Bats of Gotham.”

“You’re superheroes?”

“More vigilantes than superheroes, but we do kick bad guy booty either way.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Most superheroes don’t exactly think it’s appropriate to dangle someone upside down by their ankles over the edge of a 70-story drop. But hey, if it gets the job done, what are a few missing teeth or broken limbs?”

“Why would you dangle someone over the edge of any building?”

“Do you want a list?”

“… I think,” Bruce began slowly, carefully wrapping his hands around the cup of tea in front of him and breathing deeply, “that you might want to explain a few things. Before I jump to the wrong conclusions and I end up costing Tony another large repair bill.”

He didn’t want to jump to conclusions because he was honestly starting to like their new guests and he wanted to know more about them and more about the world they came from, but dangling people over buildings wasn’t something to be taken lightly. Especially not when the person who did so called themselves a hero while doing it or after the act.  
“Right, let’s start over because even I have to admit that what I’ve been saying sounds kind of bad and I know the truth,” Stephanie agreed. Snagging another waffle, this one she began to cut up into tiny portions as she talked, as if to give her hands something to do. 

“In our world, there’s a city called Gotham and Gotham is the city that’s under Batman’s protection. It's our turf pretty much. The thing you have to understand about Gotham though is that it’s not a city like anywhere else in the world. She’s not a nice city, and I can say that in all honesty because I grew up there and I still love her, even after everything I’ve gone through. She’s more like what happens when you mix Gothic, noire, horror, tragedy, corruption, and hope all into one place. There was actually a time where the US government declared martial law on the city and declared it a no man’s land. 

In a city like that, the normal kind of superhero, the ones with the bright colors or special powers, heroes like Tony and Steve, aren’t what the city needs. Gotham tends to chew up and spit back out heroes like that. Batman, however, is the hero that Gotham made herself and it shows. After B, which is what we’re going to call our Bruce to help with the confusion of you two having the same name, it was Dick and then Babs who eventually became Gotham heroes and joined in B's mission. I think sometime after that, the term 'Bats' came to mean any of the people who work with and train under B. 

By the time I joined the caped and cowl community, B, Dick, and Babs had made a name for themselves in and out of Gotham. There isn’t a superhero team in our world that hasn’t worked with at least one Bat. Thing is, when you’re just a regular human with no powers and you fight alongside people, aliens, demons, and all other manner of sentient life-forms with all kinds of powers and abilities, it tends to leave marks and sometimes, you have to do things that people aren't happy with. Particularly when you refuse to be left behind and actually keep up with and surpass said people of power. 

We talked about it, last night, I mean. How much information were we going to tell you guys to get you to work with us, because we obviously couldn’t keep everything a secret once you saw what we look like out of costume, and if we want to get home as soon as possible, we’ve got to work together. But did we have to tell you everything? Eventually, we figured we’d tell you the basics and let each person tell as much or as little of their story as they felt comfortable with. Which is a big deal because Bats are big on privacy and secrecy.“

“So that’s our story,” Stephanie finished. By now, the waffle she’d grabbed was cut up into a multitude of squares and resembled waffle-bits than anything resembling an actual waffle. “We’re a group of very human superheroes who prey on bad guys during the night for reasons that may or may not include vengeance and deliver large amounts of pain to bad guys and we need your help to get us back home as soon as possible so that we can continue to do so before our city goes to hell.”

“… Well, that explains why the witch’s spell picked your group,” Bruce breathed out. That was a lot to take in, but it certainly did explain a number of things that hadn’t sat right with Bruce at first. Thankfully, Stephanie was silent after having said her piece, giving him some time to process everything.

Bruce might not have been as well versed in body language as some of the others were, but he knew a few specific signs when he saw them. The fact that Stephanie was holding herself stiffly and wasn’t turning to look at him, when she had no problems before with meeting his gaze and being relaxed around him, spoke of her discomfort and her anticipation of his judgment.

Bruce really had to think about the information he'd been given. It was hard to imagine a city like the one that Stephanie had described, but the infamy that she spoke of... Well, that was a little easier to imagine, Bruce thought wryly. And Bruce could understand doing what was necessary rather than what other people wanted you to do. Was it something he was going to judge them on though, that was the question. 

He knew what his gut was telling him and how he wanted to feel, but there was something he had to know first before saying anything, one way or another.

“Do you kill people?”

“No,” the blonde stated vehemently. The steel and conviction in her tone answered a number of questions that weren't so important now. “We don't kill and we don't lose.”

Well, with an answer like that...

“You know the others are going to want to challenge you once they find all this out, right?”

Bruce's answer had Stephanie bursting out laughing, the sound bright, clear, and wonderful to hear. Just hearing it brought a smile to his face, and Bruce sincerely hoped that he wasn't putting trust into a group of people that weren't what they presented themselves to be. He didn't think he was, but there was a part of him that was still cautious. Too many times burned, but it didn't feel like he was this time.

“Oh we have bets going on about that. You want in?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god people. The number of hits and kudos on this thing is nuts. O.o I feel like I should do something special for everyone who's liking my fic, but I've got no idea what I'd even do.
> 
> I guess I should state again that I've got a tumblr here: [ http://clio-clover.tumblr.com/ ] and that this is my project for NaNoWriMo. And now, back to the writing!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have honestly no idea if I’ll be able to finish this thing by the end of Nov. what with me STILL being behind on my personal word count (Damn you life for giving me responsibilities and matters that take away my time from typing even as you give me a paycheck!) and parts of the story not quite being as easy to write as some other parts. This is not me saying that I’m giving up, just my saying that things may not be wrapped up in November as planned…. Or even under 50,000 words at the rate this is going. (I haven’t even gotten to the shopping yet! Which is where I may be able to work Darcy into >3)
> 
> Also, I can’t believe you people! Just… oh my god. I’m staring at the number of comments and kudos and I cannot believe my eyes. Is there something in the water that I’m not aware of? Because with all this positive feedback I feel like not finishing this would be like kicking a puppy who only wants belly scratches and to love you. Or possibly offering an incentive, like if I reach um… 120 kudos or something, I’ll write things from the Bats’ perspectives since I’ve been sticking with the Avengers’ so far. (Which will continue except for a few parts where I go back to the DC universe to show what happens when 8 Bats go missing. Short answer = so much worried pining and ‘Oh-dear-god-why-are-Gotham-villains-so-crazy-and-is-that-person-serious-and-I-am-never-looking-at-mulch/rubber ducks/cat toys/insert thing here-the-same-way-ever-again…’) Or giving commenter number so-and-so their own personal ficlet. 
> 
> I'll figure which out later.
> 
> Normally I hate sticking these things at the beginning, but I can’t figure out how to get rid of the notes from the first chapter when I post them on the bottom, so I’m afraid they’ll just have to go up here for the time being.
> 
> For the record, sparring/fighting is not my thing as I’m the most un-athletic person ever.

“Why would you even bet on something like that?”

“Because we’re all secretly horrible people with nothing better to do with our lives than to bet on our peers?”

Bruce’s laughter is loud, bright, and echoes all the way to where Steve is making his way to the kitchen. When he’d left for his run earlier, the only person that had been awake was Stephanie, and even that was a stretch. The blonde woman had been shuffling around the kitchen, yawning and stretching, unconcerned about how she looked with bedhead and wearing pajamas. Steve had wanted to ask about some marks he could see on her arms, but hadn’t thought it was the right time. What with the young woman still in the process of waking up. 

Steve had resolved to ask Stephanie later, once he got back from his run and possibly in private in case it was a sensitive subject, but it looked like he’d have to put off that conversation for another time. Instead, it seemed like it had been a good idea after all to have taken a shower immediately coming back from his morning exercises. 

Following the sounds of conversation and the smells coming from the kitchen, Steve started to wonder how their new guests were settling in. They seemed comfortable enough certainly, but he wanted to ask to be sure. The smells from the kitchen however, were distracting him from that dwelling on particular train of thought for too long. Really, the smells alone were enough to make Steve’s stomach growl and he was really hoping it meant that someone had made something for breakfast.

When he actually reached the kitchen though, Steve couldn’t help but stop in his tracks at the sight before him. 

Stephanie and Bruce were there, sitting at the bar and involved in a conversation that seemed to be about bets and bats. They weren’t eating anything, but they each had mug in their grasps. In front of them, covering the kitchen island, were plates and plates of food, just sitting there for anyone to eat. Steve could already feel his mouth watering and his stomach was having an entire conversation at the sight. 

But they weren’t alone in the kitchen as Dick, Natasha, and Damian were there as well. The three of them were seated at the table, however, with plates of food in front of Damian and Natasha, while Dick had a large bowl, presumably filled with cereal, in front of him. He was gesturing with a spoon about something while talking to Natasha in what sounded like Russian. Steve wasn’t familiar enough with the language to understand it, but he’d heard enough to at least recognize it when he heard it coming from someone else.

It wasn’t the sight of the two conversations that had Steve pausing though. What had him pausing was the terrifying number of scars that he could see on Dick, Damian, and Stephanie. There were scars on their arms, legs, shoulders… The only place that Steve didn’t see any scars present that wasn’t covered by their clothes were their faces. What could they possibly be doing where a young woman and a child were marked up in such a way?! 

He must have made a noise somehow because Stephanie suddenly turned his way and gave him a bright smile, lifting her mug up in greeting. 

“Morning, Steve. Care to join us for breakfast? I made enough for everyone. Least, I think I did.”

“How did you, I mean… uh…Yes, I’ll have … There’s so…” God, he didn’t want to sound rude, but he couldn’t stop staring. He couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation for a child Damian’s age to have his skin so marked. At least, he couldn’t come up with any reasons he was willing to entertain for very long. Was the world so different where they came from that a young dame like Stephanie didn’t care how she looked? And what kind of life did Dick lead that his skin had so much scar tissue on it? Flushing, Steve brought a hand up to his mouth and wondered who he’d upset recently to come down with such a bad case of letting his mouth run away with him. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”

“So I’m thinking it is Steve’s turn for an explanation,” Dick remarked lightly with a smirk. “Bruce? Natasha?”

“You might want to sit down for this Steve.”

One large plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon, and an explanation later, including their plan to call their Bruce ‘B’ and Dr. Banner, Bruce, and Steve was looking at their visitors, the Bats, in a new light. Almost as a direct contrast, Stephanie had a smug little smile on her face, while Damian only rolled his eyes and scoffed dismissively. And Dick was unconcernedly making his way through what was left of the box of cereal.  
It was like watching Thor go through a large box of pop-tarts.

“Wow. That’s just… I mean, wow.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of why we need to get back home as soon as possible,” Dick reminded. “Don’t get me wrong, a break’s nice and all, god knows some of us could really use one, but it’s never a good idea to leave Gotham alone for very long.”

“-tt-,” rebuffed Damian. “I don’t see why we can’t simply make that witch send us back home, Grayson.”

“Because it was magic that brought us here Damian,” Dick stated in a voice that was part resignation of repetition, and part bemusement. The tone makes Steve flashback to the times when Bucky was talking to some of his younger relatives, repeating the lectures they’d all heard a hundred times before. Not for the first time, Steve wonders what about what the relationships are between the different members of the Bats. He thinks that the Bruce from another world and Damian are related, maybe father and son going by the physical resemblance the two share, but beyond that, he can’t be sure.

“Magic’s risky enough when the spell comes from someone you trust. There are too many things we can’t control to believe in a spell from someone who’s only doing so under threat. Even B wouldn’t want to take that chance.”

“You’re familiar with magic?” Natasha asks. Steve wonders if she’s just digging for more information as a threat assessment, or if she merely wants to know in an effort to get to know their guests better.

Dick only shrugs, but he does eventually nod, while, over at the bar, Stephanie groans and buries her head in her arms. It’s not really an answer, but Steve’s betting that Natasha reads more into it than he does. Much like how Stephanie’s mutterings cause Damian to give a snort of amusement, if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

Which reminds Steve of a fact he’d nearly brushed aside with the slew of information he’d been given. Damian was still a child.

“If your city is as bad as you’ve described it, should a kid like Damian really be out there with the rest of you?” His question is intended to be harmless, if maybe a little chastising, so he’s not expecting the shout of outrage that comes from Damian himself answering his question.

“I was born to rule the world! I am more than capable of handling the lowlifes that sully my father’s empire! How dare you suggest otherwise?!”

“Down Dami,” Dick orders gently, but with steel in his voice, putting a hand on the child’s shoulder. Damian glares at Steve for another moment, before making a dismissive scoff and goes back to eating his breakfast. He’s still sullen and angry, but he’s chosen to ignore Steve’s presence for the time being.

“I’m sorry?” Steve tries. Dick only chuckles and gives him a charmed grin. “What did he mean by ‘my father’s empire’?”

“B is something of a big deal back where we’re from.” Steve notices that Stephanie has to smother a giggle at the statement, making Steve think that Dick’s exaggerating one way or another about something, but the other man only continues as if he hadn’t heard a thing. “And Batman’s something of a family business. Since Damian is B’s only biological son, he has certain ideas in his head about what will happen in the future.”

“They are not mere ideas, Grayson. They will come to fruition,” Damian states haughtily. Now Dick is the one who has to smother a laugh whereas Stephanie has given up and is nearly falling out of her seat due to her giggles. It’s only Bruce’s steady grip on her arm that prevents her from meeting the floor. Even the corner of Natasha’s lips are quirked just the slightest bit upwards, which is a full out laugh coming from her. 

“I’m looking forward to seeing it, Little D,” he says fondly. Steve has to hide his smile behind his cup of coffee as he sees the tips of Damian’s ears pink and there’s the slightest hint of something on his tan cheeks that no one pointedly calls him out on. It’s nice to see, even if Steve still has a number of reservations about a child fighting villains, and even more questions on top of that. Damian acting in the way an honest child would has Steve holding his tongue for the moment and just enjoying the company that’s here.

“Speaking of seeing it,” Stephanie speaks up, directing a little eyebrow wiggle Steve’s way that has Steve fighting off a blush and Bruce attempting to smother his laughter behind a poorly timed cough and his cup of tea. “We were thinking of having a sparring match later and were hoping your team would be our opponents. The Bats verse the Avengers.”

It doesn't take much for Steve to start smiling in anticipation at the thought of going up against one of the Bats. He'd already gotten an idea of their level of skill when he'd first seen them walking around and he made note of how Jason hadn't made nearly as much noise as he'd expected for someone who was wearing heavy boots. And if the scars he could see on Stephanie, Dick, and Damian's skin, they were serious fighters and survivors.

He doesn't even have to think about it, nor if the others will want to participate as well. Clint, Natasha, and Thor are pretty much a given anyway. Bruce will probably be the only one who will want to bow out, and Tony could go either way, but Steve's eager for the chance for himself. 

“Of course! I think it's a great idea,” Steve agreed enthusiastically.

“All right! Lets bring on them hurt!”

~

Oh god, Clint needed popcorn. He needs popcorn and an instant replay feature on life, because there was no way what he was witnessing right now wouldn't be something he'd want to talk about for ages to come. With pictures. And sound effects. And possibly music. Because it was just that epic and no one was going to convince him otherwise. Not that he'd think anyone would.

Because watching Thor get taken down by a slip of a girl was awesome in ways that Clint just didn't have the proper words for. 

“How is this possible? I mean, I'm watching it and I don't even know how it's possible,” Tony muttered. “JARVIS, tell me you're recording this because this is not something that anyone will believe without proof.”

“That I am Sir.”

If Clint hadn't been assured that it was a point of pride that none of them had any kind of powers and still managed to be top contenders in their superhero community, he would have suspected that Cassandra had the power to read minds. Because no matter what move Thor tried to pull, somehow Cassandra was ready for him and could counter it. The fact that Thor was so much bigger and stronger than her didn't seem to matter at all as she slipped underneath his guard and struck hard with what would have been a lethal blow on one of Thor's vital spots. 

Cassandra was fast and she knew how to use her speed with a dash of stealth to get her into positions and spots that Thor hadn't realized he was even leaving open. She even managed to use his greater size to her advantage, treating the god like her own personal jungle gym, flipping over and off his shoulders and ducking around his swings. It was like she was dancing and Clint couldn't spot a single wasted movement. Even for just a spar, she was taking his little bout seriously. 

The kind of training that equaled was something that was on par with what little Clint knew about Natasha's combat and spy training. Given Cassandra's age however, the archer could only guess at how young she must have been when her training started and what it must have entailed. That brought a frown to Clint's face and a mixed batch of feelings, but it was pushed aside when Cassandra managed to dance around Thor's fist and end up behind him, smacking him on the side as she passed. The feelings only added fuel to the things Clint wanted to know about this group if this was demonstration of their level of skill. There was also one fact that Clint was trying not to think about, but that kept rearing its ugly head when he didn’t want it.

That fact was that Clint could identify a number of the moves that Cassandra used to be killing moves. The exact type of moves that assassins used, that Natasha used. They weren’t the obvious blows she delivered, but the softer ones. Had she been armed in any manner, Thor would not be looking so cheerful and lively right this moment. It was only because she had an extremely high level of skill that Cassandra managed to turn those killing moves into something less damaging and more fitting with a friendly display of talent. 

Knowing that this was a friendly spar both sides had agreed upon kept him from worrying too much, and really, if Clint were to judge from the smile on her face and the way Thor was laughing, they were both enjoying themselves as fighters. Although, sometimes the smile on Cassandra's face was replaced with a frown, but then it was wiped off a moment later. Still, it didn't necessarily mean that she wasn't having any fun. Thor was having fun enough for the both of them either way.

Clint had to bite back a wince, even as he was resisting the urge to start applauding, when Cassandra decided to end their spar by laying Thor flat out on his back and then immediately following up with a hand to his throat. It was quick, decisive, and a brilliant last move because if she had been armed, Thor would have been in need of serious medical assistance, even if he was a god.

“Wow. That was just.... Wow.” 

“I'm with the Cap on this one,” Clint added. 

“Can all of you move like that?” Natasha's tone was admittedly impressed, even as she tried to keep the level of her curiosity down.

“Yeeee-ah, no” Stephanie drawled. “Cass is special.”

“Indeed!” boomed Thor. He was grinning widely as he stood up with a grunt and dusted himself off. Bastard didn’t even seem out of breath, whereas Cassandra wasn’t quite breathing as silently as she had been at the beginning. “The Lady Cassandra is a mighty and fine warrior for one so small! I would be honored if you would engage me in combat at another time, my lady.”

And now the frown that had only been hinted at in Cassandra's expression was clear on her face as she crossed her arms and glared up at Thor.

“Only if you do not disrespect me and do not hold back next time,” the Asian girl stipulated. “You weren't taking me seriously. I didn't ask for you to hold back, did I?”

And that wiped the smile off the Norse god's face as quickly as he had been taken down. Clint could feel his eyebrow quirking upwards in surprise. He knew they had explained that Thor was a god and that he was stupidly strong, and yet, Cassandra was asking him not to hold back with her? Glancing at the other Bats, it didn't look like any of them were surprised at the girl's request. In fact, they were nodding along with her. Well, most of them were nodding. Damian had his arms crossed and was making a dismissive noise while Barbara, who had surprised him by stating that she was going to participate in the sparring matches as well, was tapping her fingers on the armrest of her wheelchair.

Okay, what did they face regularly back in their world that any of them were asking for a no-holds barred spar against a god?  
“Uh, you do know you're asking a Norse god, one who's got biceps as big as your head, to NOT hold back when he's fighting you, right?” Tony checked. Cassandra's only reply was to turn her head and give him a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, I do know,” she stated with a small nod. Then she turned back to Thor and stated, plainly while meeting Thor's gaze head on; “And it does not matter to me.”

There must have been something that Thor read in the smaller girl's eyes or in her body language because the next instant, he was nodding. Taking one of her hands in his, the god bowed over it in a way that should have looked ridiculous, especially since the two of them were dressed in sweats and simple shirts, but didn't. The bow Thor gave would have fit in a medieval court, cape and all, and somehow just worked with the aura he was projected, more than expressing the level of respect he must have felt for Cassandra right then and there. 

“I shall not disrespect you again, fair lady, and when we meet in combat again, it will be as equals.”

“Good.” Then she was smiling and leaning in, quick as you please, to place a sweet little kiss on Thor's cheek. “I'll be looking forward to it.”

“How does being a Norse god not matter?! For that matter, why have none of you reacted at ALL to the fact that he is a Norse GOD?!” Tony exploded, throwing his hands up in the air and look at all of them expectantly. 

Almost as one, they all shrugged causing Tony's mouth to fall open and Clint and Natasha's eyebrows to climb upwards. 

“Knowing Amazon princesses and having a demigoddess on speed-dial kind of takes the awe out of meeting other gods and goddess,” Tim explained casually. Clint could literally feel it the moment his brain short-circuited on him. Amazons. They had Amazons where they were from. 

“B punches gods in the face,” Dick added, like he was trying to be helpful. Although, going by the expression on his face? The guy knew exactly what it was he was saying. Clint was starting to get to the feeling that he was dealing with a group of trolls who liked to keep certain things to themselves until just the right moment. And there was only one thought he had about that. Really, it was the only one he could have.

Phil was going to have so much paperwork ahead of him.

“Right. JARVIS, make a note,” Tony proclaimed, clapping his hands and snapping everyone back to the present. “We're sending them back and then we're going to take a vacation because I need to meet an Amazon. There is something inherently wrong about knowing that Amazons exist and that I haven't met any yet. So! Who's next up on this tournament of pain.”

“That would be Hawkeye verse Nightwing.”

Well, he hadn't been expecting his turn to come up so soon, but it wasn't something he was going to complain about either. Tossing a grin at Natasha, the archer traded places with Thor, cracking his knuckles and bouncing lightly on his feet once on the mats. 

If he had been asked, mostly either by Natasha or Coulson, Clint would have said that, next to their world's Bruce, Dick was the person who caught his eye most amongst the men. Aside from the fact that he had one hell of an impressive number of scars, he acted a little like he was the second-in-command of their group, but Cassandra had said that he wasn't. 

The man had an air of energy and movement to him, and Clint wanted to see how that translated to his fighting style. He hadn't been able to pin down what exactly Cassandra's was or what school she studied under, and he suspected that there was a story behind that fact, but perhaps he would be able to read something from Dick's after getting a first-hand demonstration.

“Show me what you've got.”

15 minutes later and Clint was rather horribly reminded of the dazed and confused feeling he had right after Natasha had snapped him out of Loki's control so many months ago. Sprawled out on the floor, arms akimbo, and gasping for air was different from looking up at Natasha in confusion and wondering what she was doing standing in front of him and why he was in so much pain, but the feeling of being utterly confused at what series of events had led up to his current situation was the same. The only condolence that Clint's bruised ego had was that Dick was sitting on the ground next to him, panting and running a hand through his sweaty hair. It wasn't much of a condolence when all was said and done, as he was the one on his back and Dick had taken a seat out of his own choosing, but he'd take it. 

“That man is not human. That man is a spring in human disguise.” 

“I have to agree with Tony,” Clint wheezed with a groan. “It shouldn't be possible for someone to move like that. Flips like those aren’t possible.”

“Dickie likes to pretend that the laws of gravity don’t apply to him and gravity likes to go along with that belief,” Jason lazily informed the group. 

“Gravity applies to me Jay,” Dick protested, standing up with a groan. Bending over and offering Clint a hand, he went on. “I've just have a lot of practice with moving and what I can and can't do.”

“If you try and tell me that you're not an acrobat, I'm calling bullshit,” Clint proclaimed, taking the hand and grinning. Even if he had been the one to end up on his back, he wasn't sore about it, other than the physical soreness he knew he'd feel later. He had managed to achieve his goal in learning something about Dick's fighting style, although he hadn’t been able to pin down all of it. 

There were a few familiar elements to it that were also present in Cassandra's, but it was also drastically different from hers as well. Clint had managed to identified at least 5 different fighting styles that mixed together to make up Dick's, with a whole hell of a lot of jumping, flipping, and other assorted acrobatics thrown in as well. He knew there were others he hadn’t been able to spot, but going over the video later with Natasha and Phil would yield more results on that front.

Dick snorted. “I'm not just an acrobat, I'm an aerialist.”

“You weren't kidding when you said he was flexible,” Natasha observed, eying Dick speculatively. And Clint didn't miss the fact that the spy's eyes were drawn a bit more often to the man's ass than the rest of him. Yeah, it was only matter of time before that happened. 

“Before anyone asks,” Tim interrupted. “No, Dick is the only one who can move like that. The rest of us are bound by conventional gravitational forces.”

“Good to know,” Tony acknowledged. “All right JARVIS, next contestant!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, the only reason that Cass was able to beat Thor so thoroughly was because he was grossly underestimating her. Like, waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay down there levels. Sif would smack him with her sword if she knew kind of levels. 
> 
> Also, Cass is a badass~<3
> 
> PS: So much super appreciation for the people who've caught my spelling/grammar mistakes~<3


	5. Author's Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's happening and story update status

Sorry to disappoint everyone, but this isn't a chapter update. It's an author's note. So I haven't given up on this story, no worries there. It's just that, going back and reading the things that I've written, and with all the movies that are coming out, there are so many parts of this story that make me cringe in horror. But you lovely, lovely seem to think this piece is still good, regardless of what I may think. Which baffles me completely. However, the fact that people still like it has given me encouragement. I have decided that, after Age of Ultron comes out, I WILL be going back and writing this.

I had originally planned on putting up the little piece that I had written for the next chapter of this story that wasn't finished along with the author note, but I accidentally left my usb at work. So instead, I'll post it up on Monday to my tumblr ( clio-clover.tumblr.com )

So yeah. Just giving a little heads up. 

AGE OF ULTRON!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the toaster is a nod to [scifigrl47’s](http://archiveofourown.org/users/scifigrl47/pseuds/scifigrl47) series of fics and Caclifer the toaster. 
> 
> And so concludes the boring part of the fic. Normally I wouldn’t bother describing the Batfam, but as that part was being told from Clint’s perspective, it wasn’t something that I could skip over entirely. No worries, I’m not going to be describing the Avengers in detail from any of the Bats’ perspective. 
> 
> I’m behind on my word count, but I wanted to put SOMETHING up.


End file.
